Through The Years
by Beth C
Summary: No real plot, just a short fic dealing with the relationship of one man and his car. KITT has been destroyed, and rebuilt from scratch. Will the relationship stay the same?


Through the Years  
  
By Beth C  
  
Summary: No real plot, just a short fic dealing with the relationship of one man and his car. KITT has been destroyed, and rebuilt from scratch. Will the relationship stay the same?  
  
Rating: PG is needed, a few bad words spoken in anger.  
  
Disclaimer: Knight Rider is copyright to Glen A. Larson. Don't sue guys.. I only borrowed them. I'll put them back when I'm done.. I promise...  
  
Feedback: Certainly... Trekie386@aol.com. No flames, please.   
  
************************  
  
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Michael slammed his hand against the steel door wishing he could just break through it. How many times now had he been thorough this? More times than he could ever count on both his hands.   
  
It had happened again. And this time he was to blame.   
  
He watched as the technicians hovered over what remained of his car. Correction, his partner. They were trying once again to rebuild what had been rebuilt many times over already. Michael was sure that when Wilton Knight had designed the Knight 2000, he had no idea it would be put through so many tests and trials.  
  
This time he had not heeded Kitt's warnings, he had pushed onward, and Michael had barely escaped with his life. He had to sacrifice Kitt in the process, watching as his buddy had been literally crushed in the car compactor.   
  
Some of the computer components had survived. Everything else had been destroyed. It had been a trap and Michael had fallen into it. By the time he realized that it was indeed a trap, the car had been picked up by a very powerful magnet and carried to the crusher. Kitt had been unable to free himself, the magnetic field had hindered most of his computer capacity.   
  
Michael had managed to jump to safety, watching in horror as Kitt was dumped, rather unceremoniously into the large machine. He heard grinding and whining and saw lots of sparks. For a few moments he actually thought the MBS would stand up to the crusher.   
  
But in the end, the machine had taken over. The force applied against the car had been just too powerful and Kitt's body had folded. What came out of the machine looked nothing like what had gone in. It had been a powerful warning by the man he had been secretly following all week.  
  
A loud voice had blared over the junkyard's intercom. "Mr. Knight, we suggest you leave the premises, or you will end up in worse shape than your car."  
  
Michael had heard Kitt's pleas for help but had been unable to do anything but watch. It had torn his heart out to see the results of his decision to pursue this case on this awful night. The remains of his car, his friend, his pal had been ejected from the compactor with a rather large clunk.   
  
Kitt resembled nothing more than a flattened box, metal scraped to the bare skin, and all components crushed beyond recognition. The Foundation had picked up the remains the next day.  
  
Now Michael watched thorough a small window as what remained of his car was picked through by the technicians. A few of the components had been salvageable, but they had to be pried out of the crushed body of the car. It was like watching an autopsy and seeing the bones of your best friend being pulled out one at a time. Michael shivered in disgust, but forced himself to watch.  
  
He had caused it this time. It was his fault. Kitt had warned him, stating the place looked to be a trap. He had brushed those warnings aside, confident that if he could just find the man in the office, the ringleader of the 'chop shop' he could put the man behind bars once and for all.  
  
Eric Vonnegut had eluded the police for many years, profiting off the black market of stealing luxury automobiles or concept cars and dismantling them for 'parts' which were sold overseas in many small shipments, then reassembled and sold as whole vehicles to people willing to pay the price.  
  
There had been no way to trace him, to catch him in the act. He had been that slippery. Michael had thrown down the bait, and upon seeing Kitt in action, Eric had been entranced at the car. A theft attempt had been staged, Kitt allowed himself to be stolen and Michael had tracked the car to the junkyard.   
  
They hadn't even tried to dismantle the car. That was the first clue that something fishy was up. When Michael had been caught trespassing on the grounds, Eric decided that it was easier to just dispose of Michael and the car.   
  
The second clue was the fact that the car compactor had been warmed up and ready, long before Kitt's arrival. Evidently the alibi he had provided had not held up and Eric had traced down who he was. Michael had been beaten by the men who held him and tossed into the car, near unconsciousness.  
  
That was when he realized that Kitt had been right all along and it was a trap. The magnet had grabbed them and Michael had regained enough of his senses to jump before he was crushed in the car.   
  
Now he was here. Watching as what little remained of Kitt was taken out.   
  
Another car was being readied even as the old one was being returned. FLAG had commissioned the project almost as soon as Michael had reported what had happened.   
  
Michael, however, did not want another car. He wanted HIS car back. They said it would take a week, to install and ready the new vehicle, using what little remained of Kitt wherever possible. Parts of his memory banks had survived as well as his voice modulator.   
  
Michael sighed as he pressed his head against the cool glass. It just wouldn't be the same. Installing another Artificial Intelligence would not be the same as having his buddy there with him, no matter how many parts they used.   
  
Kitt, was to all extents and purposes, gone.   
  
Michael had to step away from the window as a group of technicians opened the door and walked out, mumbling in the strange language they had about diodes and memory chips and circuit boards. Bonnie trailed behind them looking totally beat and worn out.  
  
She dropped heavily in one of the chairs in the small waiting area that Michael had been pacing for hours. "Michael," she called to him wearily.  
  
He was still staring at the window, unable to take his eyes off the chopped and cut up remains of Kitt. "Yeah, Bonnie?"  
  
"It's going to be a few days yet. You really need to get some rest." She tried to crane her head around to see him but that only increased the pressure behind her eyelids that signaled another headache.   
  
"I caused all this, Bonnie. Did you know that he tried to warn me? Did you know that I ignored him and pressed forward anyway? Look what I did to him!" Michael raised his fist again and beat the door, causing Bonnie to jump from the sound of the flesh on metal impact.   
  
"Michael," she tried again. "We are working hard to rebuild him. The main part that was Kitt, his memory banks, were largely intact. The rest was just machined parts. Parts that can be fabricated again. It just is a lengthy process." She forced herself to stand and walk over to him. "Once we get those parts installed, the rest will be easy. He will be back before you know it."  
  
Michael finally tore his eyes off the other room to look at her. "I know you are trying hard, Bonnie, and I'm not angry with you or the amount of time you are taking. I'm angry with myself for allowing this atrocity to occur."  
  
"Then do something constructive. Go home and get some rest."  
  
Michael raised an eyebrow at her. "You need it more than I do. You look like you could audition for a part on Night of the Living Dead."  
  
She shrugged. "One of the fringe benefits of my job."  
  
The group of technicians was now returning and Bonnie squeezed Michael's arm gently. "Go, Michael. We will notify you if there is any major change in his status."  
  
Michael nodded. "Alright. On one condition."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
"That you get some rest too. And soon."  
  
Bonnie nodded to the group as they passed on into the room. "I'll take you up on that offer. My part here is just about done for today, anyways." She shooed him. "Now go."  
  
Michael solemnly turned on his heel and walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder once, "I'm going to check and make sure you keep your part." Then he was gone.  
  
Bonnie sighed. Of all the cases this was turning out to be one of the toughest.  
  
********************  
  
It had taken three weeks, not one, as they had originally thought. Three long weeks of watching them rebuild the Knight 2000 from scratch, installing part after part, following the original specs of the car. Michael had hovered as much as possible, waiting for the official word that he was needed again.  
  
When he wasn't hovering about, he was still trying to keep Eric under surveillance, but that was next to impossible without Kitt. The man had closed off the junkyard site and had moved on, his usual method when authority figures got too close. Michael vowed to catch him and make him pay for what he did to Kitt.  
  
Finally at long last, a test was scheduled on the track. The car was finally ready. Michael met the team out on the track, nervous and yet and the same time, wanting to get in the car and go. His requests to be allowed in while the car was rebuilt had been refused time after time. He still didn't know what the car would sound like. Butterflies hovered in his stomach as he took his seat. This would be the time to tell if all their work was going to pay off.  
  
The garage door opened and the Knight 2000 came roaring out and slid easily to a stop. Everyone applauded and the test was begun. Michael watched as the familiar shape of his pal roared to life and took off around the many twists and turns necessary. The car breezed through the course, and turbo boosted over the hurdle. It even managed to complete the impact test and sliced through the concrete wall like it was shaving cream.  
  
The car spun a 180 degree turn and parked in front of the group to a large round of applause. Michael still had his eyes narrowed. Of course the car would perform well, it was designed that way. He was more worried on what controlled it. Was Kitt actually in control? He stood at long last and tried to squash the feeling of unease that rose in him. It was now or never. Time to talk to his car.  
  
Bonnie watched as Michael approached the vehicle. She had tried her best to keep him out of the room where the Artificial Intelligence had been designed. It had been decided that the best way to proceed was to try to rebuild Kitt from the remains of his memory banks. That part of the project had taken the longest, as algorithm after algorithm had to be re-written. She tensed up involuntarily as he opened the door and slid inside.   
  
Michael looked at the dash, so much like the original, with only slight modifications that were visually noticeable. He took a deep breath, and spoke his first words. "Kitt? How do you feel?"  
  
It seemed that everyone was hanging in the next words from the car. The real test hadn't been on the track and they knew it. The real test was in how the car would cope with the driver.  
  
"Hello, Michael." The car spoke in Kitt's voice. "I am incapable of 'feeling' as you would describe it. However I do think that I performed adequately on the track."  
  
Michael felt his gut clench. "Yeah, you did great, pal. You did great."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The car offered no other words to him. All the playfulness, joking and bantering were gone. It was as if it were the first time all over again. Michael had to get out before he broke down in front of all the technicians crowding around the car. "Well, buddy, I'd better let them finish with you." He opened the door and got out. "Go back to bay three. I'll pick you up later tonight."  
  
"Certainly, Michael." The car started and rolled away silently. Michael was aware that every eye was on him now, scrutinizing his reaction.   
  
He took a moment to compose himself before speaking. When he did speak it was just to say how appreciative he was that they had worked so hard to rebuild the car. He couldn't voice what he was really thinking. Only one person in the group could see through his facade anyway. He would deal with her later.  
  
The group finally broke up, clapping and patting each other on the back. There were some final checks that had to be done before the car was released to Michael. They gathered up their paperwork and headed inside, smiling and laughing that their rebuilding project had been successful.  
  
Michael didn't follow, choosing to stay on the bleachers for a few moments. It was then that Bonnie decided to approach him. "Michael?"  
  
"Don't say it."  
  
"Say what?" She placed one hand on his shoulder.  
  
"That he will be as good as new. Bonnie, that wasn't Kitt we just saw."  
  
She squeezed his shoulder gently. "It's the best we could do. The rest is up to you. He still has his memory, and I'm sure you will have him cracking jokes again in no time. The Intelligence inside the computer is largely dependent on the driver. I can only program so much. The rest has to be learned." She released her hand and walked around to where he had to look at her. "This is no different from a patient that has suffered, a stroke perhaps, and has to re-learn speech patterns. The trauma he suffered was great. You will have to work with him if you want him back the way he used to be."  
  
Michael sighed. "I don't know if I can. It took years to get him the way he was."  
  
Bonnie stamped her foot on the ground impatiently. She had worked so hard to get the car ready, she couldn't believe that Michael would not be willing to do his part in this. Why did it always come down to her? Kitt's wit and wisdom and relationship was not something that had come easily. "Then dammit, Michael, YOU get in there and program him if you think it's so simple. I've had enough of your childish attitude. If you had listened to him in the first place, none of us would be here now!"  
  
She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth. The effect they had on Michael was as prominent as if she had reached her hand up and slapped him across the face. His features had turned to stone, his blue eyes hardening. "Oh, Michael..." she stared to say.  
  
He stood up and climbed down the bleachers to the ground. "Don't, Bonnie. I don't want to hear another word." He turned his back on her and stalked off, leaving her alone with her apology.   
  
Bonnie hung her heard as she picked up her clipboard from the place she had put it. There really was nothing more to say, or do. They had done their best, and it hadn't been good enough. Not for the man that was to drive the car. Not even for the car itself. As she followed his retreating form back to bay three, she couldn't help but feel that the last three weeks had been a total failure.  
  
********************  
  
Michael was in the car now, driving along the open road. Devon had told him to take a week off and get to know his car again but all Michael wanted was to go after that slime that had caused this whole disaster. Problem was, he didn't know where Eric had set up shop again.   
  
Tension in the car was as thick as frozen butter. He couldn't find it in himself to talk to the car anymore, as the replies were mostly factual and lacked Kitt's usual charm. He found himself wishing more than once for the old presence of Kitt, the partner he had loved and cared so deeply for. This car was cold, aloof and too practical.   
  
Bonnie had said it was up to him. How did he manage to alter Kitt's personality the first time? The voice was the same, having used the same voice modulator, but the presence behind it wasn't. He felt like he was faced with an impossible task, and he wasn't up to the challenge. If the memory banks were intact, why was Kitt not accessing them? Certainly he had to know that there was more to their relationship than just spitting forward facts.  
  
"Kitt?"  
  
"Yes, Michael?" The tone was flat, a canned response.  
  
"We need some music in here, this silence is driving me crazy. What do you recommend?" Music was one thing they had never agreed upon. Michael had liked rock -n- roll, while Kitt had a definite preference for the classics.  
  
"What would you like to hear? I can access multiple stations ranging from classical to rhythm and blues..."  
  
"I didn't ask for what you can access, Kitt" Michael cut the reply short. "I asked you what you recommended as a preference." Michael gripped the gull wing in his hand, trying hard not to punch the dashboard. He got the same replies out of the car every time he asked a question.  
  
"I have no preference." The voice replied. "My databank shows that your preference is toward the latest in popular music. We can access that if you wish."  
  
Michael gritted his teeth. He was going to have to go back to the Foundation and tell them that this wasn't going to work. He couldn't work with a car that wasn't willing to work with him. "Never mind."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
That did it. Michael pulled the wheel hard to the right and the car skidded off the road. He slammed on the brake pedal and brought the vehicle to a stop. "What the HELL is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?"  
  
"I don't understand the question and there is no need to shout. I am accessing your questions easily."  
  
Michael put the car into park and turned it off. "We are going to have it out here and now. I can't continue to work in this environment."  
  
"Is the temperature too warm? I can adjust it for you by simply..."  
  
Michael bit his lip. Part of him wanted to rip the voicebox out and have the rest of the ride home be in silence. "Kitt?" He interrupted the monologue on climate control. "What do you remember about the past?"  
  
The computer didn't hesitate for a second. "I am programmed with the full database available to all of the Foundation's computers. I can instantly access..."  
  
"NO!" Michael screamed, frustrated beyond control. "I mean our past. What do you remember about our relationship?"  
  
"I don't understand the question."  
  
"Us. You. Me. What do you remember from prior missions? Past exploits? Anything at all?"   
  
Silence stretched out for what seemed like minutes. Then Kitt broke the silence. "We used to be friends."  
  
It was the first thing that Michael had heard that hadn't been a programmed response. It was also the first sign of hope for him. "That is the first thing you've said in hours that actually makes sense, Kitt. Now access that memory and tell me what is different now compared to then."  
  
Another stretch of silence.   
  
"Kitt?"  
  
"Yes, Michael?"  
  
"Comparison?" he prodded.  
  
"I can not continue this line of questioning." the voice was back to the flat monotone.  
  
"Why not?" Michael asked, perplexed. They had been on the verge of a breakthrough, at least on his part.  
  
"The answer would hurt you." Kitt replied softly, the first sign of his previous personality showing through.  
  
"I'm willing to be hurt if it ends this tension between us, Kitt. I can't work with you like this." Michael ran his hands through his hair.  
  
The computer thought about the statement. Then it said simply, "Our friendship is nonexistent now. The camaraderie you enjoyed with the previous computer has not been reestablished. Then- according to your definition of the past- there was an easy, relaxed atmosphere with the Knight 2000. Now- according to your definition of the present- we have no such basis of friendship."  
  
"Exactly. Now can you tell me why that is?"   
  
"Yes." The computer replied simply but did not elaborate.  
  
"Well?" Michael waited, knowing everything was based on the next words that would come out.  
  
"You hurt me. I do not wish to be hurt again. I will not allow myself to be hurt again." This was spoken softly, and this time Michael DID hear the old personality hiding behind the words.  
  
That was it then. That was the fine line that Kitt had drawn. "So you are saying that there is no further chance of us rekindling what we once had? No chance of rebuilding the relationship?"  
  
"Not the one you remember, Michael." Again spoken softly. Then a simple apology. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Are you sure about that? Really sure?"  
  
"Yes." It was back to the flat monotone, and Michael felt the spark of personality that was Kitt fade.  
  
Michael sighed. It was over then. He would not be able to work with the current version of Kitt, and Kitt was not about to alter his current programming. "Then we are heading back to the Foundation. I'm turning you back over to them, and I'm going to resign."  
  
"There is no need to..."  
  
"End of discussion." Michael cut the conversation off before it could start. He reached over and started the car and turned it around. He began the long drive back.  
  
********************  
  
Something inside Michael had definitely died when he heard those words, in Kitt's voice. 'You hurt me.' Michael had felt the same way. He knew he had hurt Kitt, but how was he to make it up to the buddy, the pal he once knew? He felt all torn up inside, his emotions ragged and raw.  
  
The silence was full of tension now, strained and haunting.  
  
Michael had to do something to express the way he felt to Kitt, something to try to save the once unbreakable bond between them. He did the only thing possible to him. He began to sing, his rich baritone voice filling the car and chasing away the silence.  
  
"I can't remember when you weren't there,   
When I didn't care for anyone but you.  
I swear, we've been through everything there is  
Can't imagine anything we've missed,  
Can't imagine anything the two of us can't do."  
  
He took a breath, and continued the song, hoping to reach inside to the Kitt he knew was hiding from him.  
  
"Through the years, you've never let me down,  
You've turned my life around,  
The sweetest days I've found, I've found with you.  
Through the years, I've never been afraid,  
I've loved the life we've made,  
and I'm so glad I stayed ,right here with you,   
Through the years."  
  
Now he let his voice rise up, putting full feeling into each word as he sang, knowing that the Kitt he had known would have been touched at his sincerity.  
  
"I can't remember what I used to do,  
Who I trusted; who, I listened to, before.  
I swear, you've taught me everything I know;  
Can't imagine needing someone so,   
But through the years it seems to me,   
I need you more and more."  
  
Tears were beginning to run down his face, making driving difficult as he chased the silence away with his memories of the past.   
  
"Through the years,  
Through all the good and bad,  
I know how much we had.  
I've always been so glad to be with you;  
Through the years,  
It gets better every day;  
You've chased my tears away.  
  
As long as it's okay,  
I'll stay with you,   
Through the years."  
  
He could no longer hide any of his torrid emotions, feeling the past weeks of wondering what was going to happen next come pouring out in the next verse of the song. He was beyond simple singing, now his song was a message. A message he hoped was being received by the personality it was meant for.  
  
"Through the years,  
When everything went wrong,  
Together we were strong;  
I know that I belong right here with you  
Through the years,  
I've never had a doubt;  
We'd always work things out,  
I've learned what life's about,  
  
By loving you,  
Through the years."  
  
Tears flowed freely, but he kept his voice steady and strong, knowing that this was how he really felt, deep inside. He loved his partner, loved Kitt in ways that were inexplicable, and the thought of his friendship being severed hurt him more than any words the car could ever say. He sang the final verse with his full heart.  
  
"Through the years, you've never let me down,  
You've turned my life around,  
The sweetest days I've found, I've found with you.  
It gets better every day;  
You've chased my tears away.  
  
As long as it's okay,  
I'll stay with you,   
Through the years."  
  
He finished the song and let the words trail off, until the car was once again filled with silence. It was maudlin, he knew, to sing to a car but that was how he felt. He wiped the last stray tears away and waited.  
  
It was a few long minutes, but he was rewarded with a response. "Michael?"  
  
Michael felt his heart leap up into his throat. Kitt's old personality was making a show again. "Yes, Kitt?"  
  
"I had no idea you felt that way about me."  
  
Michael swallowed the lump and forced himself to keep his tone even. "I feel that way and more. Kitt, you're more than just a car to me, you're my friend, my partner, my pal. Without you, I'm just another guy in this world. It's our teamwork that makes this whole thing work."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I'm being honest here, Kitt. I'm sorry about what happened. I should have listened to you. I know you were hurt, hell I was hurt watching what they did to you. We all worked hard to get you back, to get you rebuilt as soon as we could. But if you can't find it in that CPU of yours to try and pick up where we left off, then it's over between us. I can't work with the current version that you are projecting. Hurt or not, I want no part of it. I'm giving it my all here, now I think you owe it to me to be completely honest as well."  
  
"Michael?"  
  
A pause.   
  
"To be completely honest, I wasn't sure I could work with you again. You've disregarded my suggestions time and time again, using me to do the brunt of the dirty work on the missions. I've allowed it, even encouraged it on occasion. I have to draw the line somewhere, Michael. When it comes down to my destruction, I can not allow this to continue. I know I sound like KARR in that respect, and I will continue to protect you first and foremost on any mission, but when it comes down to listening to my suggestions over my own destruction, then I think I should at least have a say in the matter."  
  
"You're right." Michael agreed.   
  
"I beg your pardon?" Kitt said. He hadn't expected Michael to agree so easily.  
  
"I said you're right. I have been taking you for granted. One thing this has taught me is how valuable you are to me, not as a car or a machine, but as my friend. I value that above all else. The only way I will stay with the Foundation is if we continue that friendship. Not start over, not end it. I know now that what you were pulling was an act." He looked around the car and at how familiar it seemed when the right personality was behind the instruments. Even though they all blinked with the new buttons and gauges, they seemed so comfortable when Kitt was being himself.   
  
"In a way your statement is true. I can 'act' in a sense. However the only way I will turn off the 'act' is if you promise to listen to me more. I do have 'feelings' too, you know." Kitt said with a touch of irony.   
  
"Then we have an agreement?" Michael asked. "I will take your suggestions under more serious consideration on any mission and you will drop the 'stuffy computer' act?"  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Michael sighed a deep sigh of relief. "It's good to have the real 'you' back, pal. I was really getting worried there."  
  
"It's good to be 'me', Michael. I really never knew you cared so much."  
  
Michael studied the highway flashing by as he thought about how much the car really meant to him. No, correction, how much Kitt really meant to him. "Kitt, I can say with complete honesty that I love you. Not in the romantic sense, mind you, but in a way that I can not put into words. It's as if you are an extension of my own personality, you fill the gaps in my life that nothing or no one else has been able to."  
  
"I understand. And in a way I feel the same for you."  
  
"I knew you would." Michael smiled the first time in weeks. "Now do you think you can help me locate Eric? I think we have some payback that is three weeks overdue."  
  
"With pleasure, Michael, with pleasure."  
  
Michael relaxed as Kitt began his thorough search of all files looking for anything that would lead them to the man that was ultimately going to pay the price. Yes, it was going to be alright now. He had been given a second chance to do this right. He wasn't going to blow it this time.  
  
The sun set behind them as they drove off, into the darkening sky, one man, on a mission with his partner, in the world of the Knight Rider.  
  
-end 


End file.
